


Playing with fire

by Soraya (soraya2004), soraya2004



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: First Time, M/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-01-02
Updated: 2005-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-14 19:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/152799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/Soraya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/soraya2004/pseuds/soraya2004





	Playing with fire

  
No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to stop shaking. Looking down, I see that Gil is doing little better. His hair is a mess, his skin is sweat-soaked and the sheets underneath him are rumpled. He looks incredible. Gil Grissom, heavy-eyed, flushed, sweating - almost too beautiful for words.

I'm buried deep inside him, and I can't seem to stop shaking. I am watching his face as I take him, watching him bite his lip to keep from crying out loud and coming apart before my eyes. I want to watch him come while I'm deep inside him.

Cradling the back of his head, my hands slide into his hair. It feels so soft, like silk combing through my fingers; but that is nothing compared to the feel of him around me. He's so hot and, God, so slick and tight, and the way his body arches with each touch is turning me inside out. I keep rocking into him, slowly, so slowly, taking my time. His thighs grip my waist while he clutches at my back, tilting his hips like he can't get enough of me inside him. The bed creaks a little with the motion, but the noise is barely audible now over the sounds our breathing and the slide of his skin on mine.

I rub my cheek against his, then let my mouth play over his lips, and it's not long before we're kissing, deep and hungry. His mouth holds mine open while his tongue flicks in and out, taking ownership of me, claiming me in stages until I'm moaning and sweating and harder than I thought possible. I catch his tongue, carefully, between my teeth, draw it deep into my own mouth then suck on it in a way that makes his cock drip against my stomach, before I pull back to watch the flush colour his face.

"Damn, you're beautiful," I whisper with something close to reverence. He tastes incredible, and he makes me crazy; I can't get enough of him. Touching my forehead to his, I have to tell him again, I have to let him know just what he does to me. "Love being inside you, love you so much . . .."

The sound he makes then tears another moan from me. I'm losing myself in his scent and his taste and the sweaty feel of his chest against my own. I can feel the heat of his arousal pressed between us. His chest is heaving, and his hips have started lifting under my weight, trying to make me move faster. And when, finally, he moans: "Warrick, please," in that soft, low voice of his, it's almost more than I can take.

I can't obey his plea, not yet. I know that if I do, if I start to move faster and harder, the way we both need, this will end. And I don't want that; I want to stay like this, inside him, for as long as I can. But, Gil is tired of waiting; his body is ready to come, and it wants mine right there with it. He keeps pushing, starts biting then sucking on my lower lip, which at any other time would have turned me on but which, right now, is driving me out of my mind with lust.

Taking him by the arms, I ease backward until I'm kneeling between his legs with the weight of his lower body resting on my thighs. It's a little awkward, but in this position I can hold his wrists down, away from me; I can get my mouth away from the maddening distraction of his.

He is not happy. His eyes are glinting with frustration and *something* else, though, I'm not immediately concerned about what that might be. Instead, I try to stay calm. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, then let it out in a stunned moan as his body suddenly tightens and releases about me. It happens again, and it's like pure ecstasy knifing through my gut, forcing so much pleasure on me I actually curl over and whimper with it.

My eyes fly open and I'm bucking into him *hard* - once, twice - before I can control myself again. The shivering is more pronounced now, in both of our bodies, and my breathing is very ragged. He gives me a smile that is pure temptation. He loves that he has got me on the edge, and we both realise it won't take much to push me over.

"Don't, Gil, don't!" I warn him. Laying my cheek against his own, I'm still struggling to catch my breath. "Too much, just . . . slow . . . please . . .."

I know I'm babbling and practically begging now, but I don't care. It's our first time together like this, and I want so badly to make it last and to make it good for him. Those are the only things stopping me from giving in to my own body's demands and pounding him through this bed. But I can't control us both, and he knows it. I can't think when every squeeze of his body is pushing me to the edge. I can't think, I can't breathe, I can't--

He does it again, again, and suddenly my face is buried in his throat, and I'm gasping his name, desperate for him. My hands find his hips and pin him down, and those shallow breaths he is taking exhale in one long groan when I slide deeper into him.

"God, Warrick-- it's--"

"I know," I tell him. "I know, I *know*."

Because I'm fucking him with long, deep thrusts as pleasure blazes up and takes me over. Any control I may have had is gone. My hips are moving fast and hard, and I'm taking what I need from him. It feels so good to let go, to lose myself in that sliding friction and the pleasure curling through my stomach. And despite the fact that I'm a little wild and very out of control, it is good for him too. His head is  
tipped back, his arms are locked tight about me, and he's holding me, holding on.

I can tell he is close. I can tell by the way that he is almost rigid under me, held open and gasping with each thrust. He groans sharply when I stop without warning. I don't have the time to tell him that it's only temporary, that I couldn't stop now if it meant my life and that I just need more. Instead, I take it; I put my head down on the pillow next to his, use my arms to lift his ass up, clear off the bed and then I start pounding into him.

Moments later, I feel his teeth in my shoulder, and then his come is splashing against my chest. God, so much of it, spreading between us as his body bucks and shudders and grips me tighter, harder, again and again. I go a little crazy then, from the feel, the smell, the knowledge that he's coming because of me. And the sight of him - when, shaking, I drag my head up and stare down at him and see all of that thick, white come covering his chest.

The strength of my orgasm takes my breath away. My forehead drops to his shoulder, and I pull him close, further onto my lap, coming deep inside him in long pulses and shivers that wash through my entire body. All I can do is crush him to me, pressing him down, deep into the bed as I'm gripped by pleasure stronger and sweeter than I ever imagined. It is slow and relentless, and it holds me there for a long, long time.

When I can think again, I find myself on my knees, bent almost double hunched over him. One hand is buried in his hair, and the other is curved low on his back, holding him firm against my lap.

I don't want to move; I'm not even sure that I can. Still, I know he can't be very comfortable in this position, so I have to try. Setting him down, I move my hands to his legs and lower them from my waist. I make sure I'm gentle, and careful, and I take my time easing out of him. In a minute, I'll get up, walk to the bathroom, and get him something to clean up with. In a minute, after I catch my breath.

He looks a little stunned by the intensity of what just happened. Truthfully, I'm not really sure how to deal with it myself. Part of me is worried that I might have been too rough, that I might have hurt him; the rest is just so completely ecstatic watching him struggle to slow his breathing while my come is deep inside him and his dries on his chest.

Having him once won't be enough.

The thought slams into me as I watch his eyes drift shut as his body relaxes with the beginnings of sleep. I have known Gil for years, wanted him for as long as I can remember. In all that time, somehow he has always managed to confuse, exasperate and fascinate me. And now, he's in my blood.

God help me, I don't think I'll ever be able to let him go.

Settling down beside him, I move so that we're spooned together with his back lying against my chest. And as his body curls sleepily into mine, I'm overwhelmed by feelings of lust and tenderness so powerful I have to close my eyes against them. My arm curls possessively round his waist, drawing him closer still. Burying my face in his hair, I take deep, slow breaths, and every single one fills me with his scent.

No, having him once won't be nearly enough.

Only minutes have passed, and already I want him again, just as badly as I did an hour ago. I let my mouth trail down to his nape, learning the texture of his skin. So smooth behind the ear, silk soft at the lobe . . . my teeth fasten beneath it, at the point high on his neck where his pulse is a steady throb. Then, I suck hard until the skin there is red and he starts moaning my name.

I decide to settle for that, for the time being. He needs to sleep, and I can wait.

When the burn starts up again, it will be far more intense, because I know what is waiting for me on the other side.

The End.


End file.
